


Jumping Ship

by DemonicSymphony



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Shipwrecked, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, BAMF John Watson, BAMF Lestrade, BAMF Sherlock, Big Brother Mycroft, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Johnlock Roulette, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:18:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3457115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonicSymphony/pseuds/DemonicSymphony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is sent to investigate theft and missing supplies on one of Her Majesty's Royal Naval ships. He meets Lieutenant Surgeon John Watson. When the investigation goes sour, they wind up overboard together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jumping Ship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [masked-alias (sherlocked_n_loaded)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlocked_n_loaded/gifts).



> A belated HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY and general cheer gift for M-A who is a constant source of awesome in my life.
> 
> Thanks to Winter and Max for their looking over of things and support.
> 
> As always, thanks to everyone in AD for general support and laughter.
> 
> (And as a special note, this story pushed my word count on AO3 to over 800k. *blink*)

Sherlock leaned against the railing of the ship, staring out at the ocean. He shifted his backpack before fiddling for a cigarette.

“Shouldn’t up here, you know.” 

Tipping his head and blowing a dark curl out of his eyes, Sherlock looked over to the man beside him. Tanned, fair hair bleached by the sun. Sherlock suspected it was darker blond normally.

“Go away and no one has to know.” Sherlock looked back over the ocean and was surprised at a lighter flicking in front of his face. He inhaled, holding the smoke before sighing it out in a bit of bliss.

He glanced over to the man again and arched a brow. “You’re an officer on the ship.”

Surprised dark blue eyes met his, left eyebrow arched. “I could be lost like you.”

Sherlock smirked as he looked over the man, cataloging everything he saw. “Your tan lines from your uniform are more pronounced than most. You wear yours more often.”

The man watched Sherlock, not indicating anything yet. It surprised Sherlock that he wasn’t already being shouted at. He pressed forward. “You wear a watch with a second hand and your collar is rumpled in a certain way. You’re the ship’s doctor. Though why you lit my cigarette…”

“Surgeon Lieutenant John Watson.” John held out his hand to Sherlock.

Sherlock shook his hand, still waiting to be yelled at.

John folded his hands in front of him, looking at Sherlock in a bit of shock. “That’s- well. Amazing really.”

Sherlock blinked. “You think so?”

“Of course I do.”

“That’s not what people normally say.” Sherlock blew smoke over his head.

John hummed at that. “What do they normally say then?”

“Piss off.” Sherlock let his mouth quirk up when John burst into laughter.

“So tell me what you’re doing up here?” John looked up at him and then out over the railing.

Sherlock gestured with his cigarette. “Needed to think. Hard to think in the bowels of the ship with your mates running around like mad.”

“You’re that bloke they sent.” John coughed. “Ah. Er. Yeah.”

With a roll of his eyes Sherlock blew smoke over his head again. “Let me guess, my brother informed medical staff I was not to be given opiates unless the situation is dire.”

John stared at him with a blank face and Sherlock arched his brow.

“Well?”

“Ah- yes. We were told that you were not to be given anything unless absolutely one hundred percent medically necessary.” John nodded his head, folding his arms behind his back.

Sherlock shrugged. “I used to experiment with drugs.”

John watched him for a moment before shaking his head. “At least you’re honest. Come on, food will be gone if we don’t get down there.”

With a grin, Sherlock stubbed out his cigarette and followed John back into the ship. He could use knowing the ship’s doctor to meet more people, get to the bottom of this mess Mycroft sent him to figure out.

\---

Several days passed and Sherlock dug deeper into the mystery of the missing funds and supplies. He spent his evenings talking it over with John in the small room just off the medical bay. He’d sussed out within two hours of knowing Surgeon Lieutenant John Watson, that he was not only not a part of whatever was going on, but that he was most helpful in being a sounding board.

He and John spent their meals together, heads bent near one another as they talked about everything from Sherlock’s landlady to John’s intent to stay in the Navy for some time to come. One evening when they were sitting in John’s room, John leaned forward, an open invitation for a kiss. There was definitely a pull there but Sherlock needed to ignore it as they worked together to figure out where supplies and money were being funneled to. 

“John- I’m flattered.”

John cleared his throat. “But conflict of interest? I could be in on it.”

Sherlock’s face lit up in a smile. “You really couldn’t, but I need my head clear for the work.”

A look of disappointment crossed John’s face but he shrugged grinning. “Well, at least life isn’t boring with you here.”

\---

Sherlock woke in the middle of the night to whispers outside his room. He gathered his bag and slipped into his shoes as he listened. _Shit_. It went higher than he thought. Sherlock escaped into the adjoining room and slipped through the barracks. Silently he made his way up to medical and rapped on John’s door.

John opened the door and scowled. “Sherlock?”

“We need to get off this ship.”

“Sherlock, it’s the middle of the night and-”

“The first officer is part of it, John. They’re breaking into my room and coming after you next. I heard them.” Sherlock shoved a life jacket at John. “Tell me you have one of those rafts.”

“They’re attached to the side of the ship. Christ, Sherlock no!”

“It’s that or have them throw us over, John. Shall we beat them to it?” Sherlock slipped on the life jacket. “We’ll have to cut the locater off the raft. Move it, John.”

John scrubbed a hand over his face before shoving all his socks and pants into the bag Sherlock was carrying. He yanked a bag from the wall and shoved shirts and trousers into it before pushing Sherlock out the door. A first aid kit later and John was herding Sherlock down the back way to the deck.

Once out there he tied their bags to a life jacket and swore under his breath as he looked around. He looked back at Sherlock. “Be ready to jump you crazy bastard.” They heard people coming up on deck and John popped the raft. The two of them flung themselves as far away from the ship as they could.

The water was cooler than Sherlock expected and he came up gagging on seawater. He flailed around, trying to shove himself away from the ship. A few minutes later he found John swimming for the raft, tugging the life jacket with their bags tied to it.

They made it to the raft and John pushed the bags and then himself in, before hauling Sherlock up.

Sherlock coughed. “Find the tracker. We have to get it off or they’ll come back for us.”

“Jesus, Sherlock. How the fuck are we supposed to be found?” John tried to wipe water out of his face.

“I’ve got a tracker my brother will use. We just have to survive until he can get someone to us.”

John groaned and helped Sherlock dig out a light and find the tracking beacon. “This is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever done.” His heart fluttered in fear as they cut away the beacon and flung it into the ocean.

“Don’t be dramatic, John. We’re close enough to some islands and the weather is clear. You brought us clothing and we’ve both got shoes. We’ll be fine.” Sherlock watched him as he sat back in the raft. “Now, according to where we were and the way ocean currents run in this area, we should arrive at some islands within twelve hours.”

“Great, stranded on an island until your shadowy government brother decides to rescue us.” John stared at Sherlock. “You’re barmy.”

“You’re just now figuring that out?” Sherlock grinned and settled back in the raft, folding his arms behind his head.

With a groan, John let himself sprawl in the bottom of the raft. It was entirely too huge for two people. John found himself hoping they wouldn’t be upended by a gust of wind. God knew they had plenty of supplies, at least for now. A twenty-five man raft for two men. John calculated the supplies they had on hand.

“Stop thinking so loudly.” Sherlock looked over at John. “Two meals a day, a raft this size and we have rations for fifty-six days.”

“Bloody mind reader.”

Sherlock watched as John fished out emergency blankets for both of them and then came over to curl up against him. He wrapped an arm around John as they huddled under the blankets. 

“Twelve hours?” John looked up at Sherlock.

“Twelve hours and we’ll be able to sprawl on the beach and be very lazy. Think of it as a vacation.” Sherlock closed his eyes, still feeling John’s stare.

“You’re a bloody menace.”

\---

True to Sherlock’s word, they washed up on the shore of a tiny island twelve hours later. As they tumbled out of the raft and dragged it up on the beach, Sherlock looked around. “We should see if there is water on the island after we get this set up as shelter.”

“I am in Her Majesty’s Royal Navy, Sherlock. I know what to do after being, well shipwrecked for lack of a better term. More like tossed off a ship by a madman _who threw our tracking beacon away_!” John groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Dramatics, John. They serve no purpose.” Sherlock continued to look around them, figuring out where the best place to set up the shelter would be.

Eventually the two of them had the life raft tied down and protected from the wind in a copse of tall scrub on the island. John and Sherlock used some of the rope to string up the extra clothes to dry out.

It didn’t take long to traverse the island. Sherlock figured it was nearly a kilometer square. 

“No fresh water, but we have desalination equipment and bottled water. We should definitely start that now and refill bottles as they empty, just in case.”

John looked up and arched a brow. “You expected this.”

Sherlock looked over to him as he started going through things, making sure his GPS locator for Mycroft was on. “I did. I went into this suspecting something like this would probably happen. Once I don’t check in with Mycroft in the morning, he will start the search with his own people.”

“You- I’m stranded on this rock with you!” John scowled.

“And for that I am sorry, John. I didn’t expect anyone else to be involved. You were so easy to talk to. I don’t have what anyone else would call friends. I have people I work with and that’s it. You’re the first person who has ever actually been friendly.” Sherlock licked over his bottom lip. “I didn’t mean for you to be in danger. Please, believe that.”

John shook his head. “Just, shut up, Sherlock. I’m not blaming you. You didn’t threaten my life. They did. We’re safe, the raft is still seaworthy if we need to try to get somewhere else.”

Sherlock nodded. “There are tall islands nearby. They’re more likely to have fresh water. If we haven’t been found in a week, I suggest we try for them. And I suggest we fish and eat as much of it as we can, saving the rations.”

“Agreed.” John watched Sherlock and then smiled. “Vacation?”

A small grin tugged Sherlock’s mouth up. “Vacation.”

Several hours later, John was standing in the quiet, tiny cove where the waves were almost nonexistent, fishing for their dinner. When he pulled out the third fish with a triumphant cry, Sherlock laughed from where he was tending the fire. 

“John Watson, provider.”

John thumped his chest and wiggled his eyebrows as he came back. “Does that mean you get to be Jane?”

Sherlock looked up at him with a slow smile. “Well, you know, I’m not working now. You wouldn’t be a distraction.”

“Oh, I’ll still be a distraction.” John laid the fish out on a flat rock, gutting and filleting them with the small knife.

“You seem rather confident, Lieutenant.” Sherlock watched him as he laid the fish on the hot rock in the middle of the fire.

John sat beside Sherlock in the sand. “Never had a complaint before.” 

When he leaned in this time, Sherlock didn’t stop him. John was a slow kisser, exploring Sherlock’s lips with his own before parting them, his tongue teasing Sherlock’s mouth open. Sherlock moaned when John’s hands curled in his hair. He shivered when John’s teeth dragged over his lower lip before he pulled back enough to gaze at him.

“I think I’m going to enjoy this vacation.”

Sherlock laughed as John leaned against him and they watched the fire and the fish.

\---

Later that evening, Sherlock and John laid in the bottom of the raft, curled close to one another. John’s hands slid over Sherlock’s bare chest, exploring him. “I’ve wanted to do this since the first night you kept me up with your mad theories.”

Sherlock wrapped a hand over the curve of John’s hip, thumb brushing under the waistband of his pants. “Not mad. True, as it turned out.”

John laughed before kissing Sherlock again, hand sliding around to splay at the small of his back. He kept it slow, sensual as they explored one another, Sherlock’s hands running along him, mapping him out.

When John drew back enough to gaze at Sherlock and press a wild curl away from his face, he smiled. “Has anyone told you how gorgeous you are?”

Sherlock’s eyebrows moved up and he hummed. “Never in a kind way. I am generally considered attractive. Mm, but most people tend to follow up my attractiveness with an insult to my attitude.” He shrugged.

“Idiots, the lot of them. Though you can be, well, _blunt_.” John grinned at him, drawing him in for another kiss.

They laid there like that for nearly an hour, kissing and pressing close before they hauled the blanket over themselves and wrapped up around each other. Exhaustion took over and they fell asleep against one another.

The sun was high in the sky before either of them woke. John stirred first and stumbled out of the raft to look around. He padded down to the ocean and looked out over the water with a scowl. Sherlock came up behind him and wrapped his arms around him. 

“They’ll be looking for us, John. We’ll be saved soon.”

John let out a soft sigh, tipping his head back against Sherlock’s shoulder. “I know. It’s still a bit frightening to be here with no way off. My entire life has been turned upside down, Sherlock. I trusted those men.”

Sherlock nodded. “It’s difficult, feeling betrayed by people you feel are family. Closer even, I’d imagine, in your case.”

“And for what? Money? Christ.” John turned and took comfort in Sherlock, tucking his face against Sherlock’s neck. “You should get out of the sun. I don’t want to treat bad a bad sunburn. You don’t want one either.” John looked up at him. 

“We should see about setting up a lean-to for this.” Sherlock looked up to where the shelter was and hummed. 

“Should be able to build one up nearer the shelter. Build a fire and cook there. What do you think?” John walked back up toward the scrub where they had tied the raft. He hummed as he looked around. “Doesn’t have to be weather proof. We just need a good shady spot that isn’t the actual shelter.”

The next few hours were spent making a shaded spot with an emergency blanket, some scrub and a fair amount of swearing between the two. They sprawled on the soft sand under the lean-to and watched the water. 

“I should go fish.” John looked over to Sherlock. “You’re pink in your face. I’ll see if there’s anything in the first aid to help you. At least you were wearing that long sleeved shirt.”

Sherlock waved a hand. “I’ll rebuild the fire pit up here. You go fish.” He made no effort to hide his face as he watched John strip to his boxers to go fishing. It took him longer than it should have to move the rocks and get the fire going again. John’s back muscles moving in the sun as he tossed the line out were exceedingly distracting.

When the fire was going and their rock was hot again, Sherlock stripped down to his vest and boxers. He relaxed in the shade, watching John with interest.

John came back up the beach with two good sized fish. “We’re going to have to break into the rations for vegetables if there’s nothing on this island to provide the nutrients we need other than fish.” He sat down to gut the fish and toss them on the fire.

“In the morning we’ll do another sweep of the island and see what we’ve got to work with. There might be some sort of greens we can work with.” Sherlock leaned against John as they sat by the fire. “Though we do have the rations. We should probably eat one each for breakfast, just to keep our strength. I truly don’t think we’ll be here long enough for it to matter.”

\---

By day three, they decided that making for another island was in order, rather than wait an entire week. The water situation wasn’t going to remedy itself and there was nothing to supplement their diet with on the island. Carefully, they packed up and launched the raft toward the tall island to the south.

It was hard trying to guide the large raft to the island, but they managed it. When they landed, they dragged the raft up past the waves and collapsed in the sand giggling. 

“God, that was insane.”

“More insane than jumping off a Naval ship to avoid people trying to kill us?” Sherlock propped up on an elbow, looking at John.

John turned to him before yanking him down in a kiss. “You’re mad. You’re mad and brilliant and we should get up and look for water and food.”

Sherlock kissed along John’s jaw and down his neck. “We should, but there are other things we could do…”

They hadn’t done much more than kiss and have a few gropes here and there, their situation still new and odd. John grinned as he tipped his head back, letting Sherlock explore. “Mm, if you help me wander the island, when we get back, I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Leaning back, Sherlock gazed down at him. There was a tease to his words. “Why, Lieutenant, that sounds like a very good deal.”

John laughed as they got to their feet. They tied the raft down and set out to explore. The island was much bigger than it appeared to be at first. They climbed the tallest part of it and looked around. 

“Well, there’s our water, I hope.” Sherlock pointed down the hill a little to a small pond. “Probably bubbles up from underneath. Let’s hope it’s far enough above the sea water line.”

“Breadfruit trees, look.” John pointed down from the pond. “Well have to see if there’s anything else. Breadfruit won’t give us vitamin C.”

“No, but the coconuts will. Come on.” Sherlock headed down the hill and to the pond. He dipped his hand in and tried the clear, cool water. “No salt.”

John grinned and pulled Sherlock in for a kiss. “Let’s keep exploring. We’ll come back and fill the bottles, maybe have a bath, no salt sticking to us after?”

“Mm, I like the way you think.”

A few hours later had the raft moved and secured near the pond and their clothes all rinsed and hung up to dry without saltwater making them crunchy. Naked, Sherlock waded into the pond with John behind him. Gently, John dunked Sherlock’s head and rinsed his hair, watching the water run out of the pond and down the hill.

Sherlock let out a soft, pleased hum as John’s fingers worked over him. When he was satisfied with his cleanliness, Sherlock turned to John and ran his hands over his chest. Gently, Sherlock began rinsing and scrubbing John’s hair before he pulled him in for a slow kiss.

John let out a soft groan as they pressed together, sliding his hand between them to take them both in hand. His thumb teased both of them, causing them both to groan.

Kisses turned heated as John continued to tease and stroke them until they were both hard, hips rocking against one another in the water. John groaned into the kisses as he stroked them together. Sherlock’s head dropped to John’s shoulder, breathing growing ragged.

“Sherlock.” John’s voice was cracking as he tightened his hold slightly, causing Sherlock’s hips to buck. 

Sherlock’s grip tightened on John and then he was spilling against him, groaning his name. A few thrusts later John joined him, head tipped back as he cried out. They clung to one another in the water, catching their breath and trading lazy kisses until John urged Sherlock out and to the banked fire.

The island was mostly silent, only a bit of breeze and the sounds of the ocean present as they sat near the warmth until the sun dipped below the horizon. As they leaned against one another, Sherlock’s voice finally broke the silence.

“Since I had to be marooned on a deserted island somewhere, I’m glad it was with you, John.”

John turned and kissed his temple. “I believe that is both the oddest and sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Sherlock chuckled. “Come on, let’s get some sleep. I estimate we’ll be here another week, possibly two.”

\---

Sherlock’s estimate was off. Nearly a month after they’d jumped off a naval ship, choosing to take their chances in the waters and deserted islands in the Pacific Ocean, a boat landed on their little beach as John was bandaging Sherlock’s hand.

“Told you not to try climbing that bloody tree.”

“Do shut up, John. I think we’re being rescued.” Sherlock watched the men pile out of the boat. His mouth quirked up in the corner. “Mycroft couldn’t get his arse off the ship and come with you, Lestrade?”

John looked away from Sherlock’s hand as this ‘Lestrade’ approached. He held himself as though ready to strike, scanning the area Definitely not normal military then. 

Silver hair glinting in the sun, Lestrade snorted. “You know very well he hasn’t taken off that fucking bespoke suit. Even in this heat.” He paused, face softening. “I offered to come ashore first, just to be sure.”

“Sentiment.” Sherlock scoffed but a small smile flitted across his lips. “Lieutenant Surgeon John Watson, meet Gregory Lestrade. Though I think he gets off on being referred to as 002.”

John didn’t hide his surprise. “Sherlock, why did they send a double-oh agent to retrieve you?”

Greg smirked as he held out a hand to Sherlock, hauling him to his feet before doing the same to John as he answered. “We tend to rescue our own.” 

John stared at Sherlock who waved his hand. “Don’t be ridiculous, John. I’m not a double-oh.”

“Oh.” John blinked as he continued to watch them.

“But I am MI6 on loan to MI5 for this investigation.”

John scrubbed a hand over his face. “Of course you are. You didn’t think to mention this in the past, oh _month_!?”

Sherlock began packing a few things into his backpack. “Why would I? We’ve been fucking on a beach the entire time. It hardly seemed relevant.”

Greg groaned. “We’ll pack up, gentlemen. Please get in the bloody boat and go get checked out. M would like to debrief you.”

Shaking his head, John climbed into the boat with Sherlock. “Am I ever going to get the complete story?”

“Depends.” Sherlock looked over at John.

“On what?”

A slow, somewhat wicked smile spread across Sherlock’s face. “On how you feel about career changes.”

**Author's Note:**

> A fun romp, not actually supposed to be representative of survival etc. I did minimal research and just wanted to make M-A smile. So take it as it is.


End file.
